Casebook 7: The Case Of The Sick Friend
by TalepieceUK
Summary: From The Casebook Of Madame Vastra. Jenny's cousin asks the two women to investigate the mysterious illness of her friend.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: The Case Of The Sick Friend  
AUTHOR: Talepiece  
RATING: 12 cert.  
PAIRING: Vastra/Jenny  
SERIES: The Casebook Of Madame Vastra  
CONTINUITY: This is the third story in the second volume of the Vastra/Jenny series.  
SUMMARY: Jenny's cousin asks the two women to investigate the mysterious illness of her friend.  
DISCLAIMER: Not for profit, just for fun.  
CREDITS: This story is based on Anna Katherine Green's _A Mysterious Case_.  
NOTES: Back to a more traditional Victorian-era mystery story after the last two instalments.  
POSTED: April 2014

* * *

While more concerned with the future of their relationship, Madame Vastra and her friend and colleague Jenny Flint returned to the investigation of cases with a decidedly human explanation.

Jennifer Strax Vastra-Flint  
London, 1948

* * *

Madame Vastra uttered an expletive of a very human nature. She tilted her head in wonder, surprised at herself for using such invective but absurdly pleased to know that she had learned it from her friend and colleague Jenny Flint.

The two women had returned to their home in Paternoster Row at some unpleasant hour of the morning two days before. The many hours before that having been spent investigating first the disappearance of Miss Ellen Hawthorne and then the true cause of her demise; an Egyptian cult in the sway of some unknown force. Vastra did not like unknown forces, particularly when they threatened the life of her friend.

She had very nearly lost Jenny and the thought had terrified her beyond measure. Certainly beyond anything that Vastra had experienced in her life before. She loved the young woman. The thought came to her mind as she stared down at the few items on her workbench.

Love, such a strange word to come to the mind of a proud Silurian warrior. And love for a human! Her people would have no issue with the gender of her chosen mate - Silurians did not concerns themselves with such prejudices - but they were not altogether free from that vice and they would certainly question her choice on the grounds of species.

Yet those many human poets were correct; there was no choice to be made. One's heart made such decisions long before one's rational mind had woken to the possibilities. That at least quelled any of Vastra's lingering concerns on the matter. What point troubling herself with the prejudices of her own people when she and Jenny had the opportunity for such happiness? Even if it might come at the cost of dealing with some very human prejudices as well.

"That too we will deal with," Vastra told herself.

She stared back down at the workbench. She and Jenny had found a number of small amulets in amongst the horror that had washed up from London's sewers and found its way, en masse, to the banks of the Thames. They were pretty little things, bright red stones that had been marked and polished to a smooth finish.

Why red, Vastra wondered yet again, when the colour blue was traditional for such Egyptian artefacts? Where they truly a part of the Egyptian rituals that the Hawthorne parents had documented to their ultimate cost? Or were they more, something not provided by the humans at all?

Vastra played the stones around the worksurface with her fingers, considering the markings carefully. Three held the key to entering what purported to be a magnificent temple, though it had been nothing but a facade for the dank sewers. Such remarkable perception technology, requiring both power and engineering well in advance of the humans. Who could possibly have put such an elaborate plan into action?

Vastra's thoughts swirled around, jumping from their recent adventure to Jenny and back again. These stones appeared to be exactly as they seemed; decorative, though with a darker, ritualistic purpose. Yet Vastra couldn't help but think that they were the key to more than just the temple complex.

She muttered another oath and the word bought her mind back to the young woman who continued to sleep in a room two floors above. Such a beautiful creature, both in her countenance and her spirit. Strong and utterly capable, yet strangely vulnerable too; committed entirely to their friendship and their work; offering herself as Vastra's guide and protector without question. Vastra felt the scales on her cheeks flare and knew that they were taking on a darker shade of green.

They had left the Egyptian Hall, determined to be clear of the place before the gentleman of Scotland Yard arrived to investigate. The night air was cold and neither woman had their outer garments, having left them with the two young men whom they had rescued. Jenny had shivered violently and then stumbled against Vastra, finally surcoming to the multiple injuries that she had sustained during her eventful passage through the complex below the Hall.

Vastra's fear had risen high in her throat, leaving her quite stunned by its intensity. She had scooped her companion up in her arms and setting aside any thought of hailing a cab at such a time of night, had made for home at a trot. Heedless of Jenny's slight weight, she had carried her to their very door, struggled to open it with her precious cargo still in her arms and finally borne Jenny up to her room.

Not for the first time, she had tended to the young woman's comfort as best she could but this time she was confronted with a small, almost broken body as Vastra eased the breeches and shirt from her. How Jenny had continued to not just function but to perform valiantly in their battle with the robed figures and the Felinoid, Vastra could not imagine and a flash of such blinding rage overtook her that she was forced to step away, pacing around the rooms until she had calmed her ire.

When her mind and body were settled once more, Vastra had set about tending to the injuries as best she could. She glanced at the little pot that still bubbled away in the corner of her lab. The unguent it contained had an unpleasant green tinge to it and an even less appealing odour but it had been most effective in soothing Jenny's battered and bruised body.

Jenny had finally returned to consciousness - if somewhat muddled consciousness - as Vastra applied more of the ointment to her arms. The dark eyes flickered open, hazy with pain and fatigue before they cleared a little and one brow rose to a perfect arch.

"Madame?" she said, "You appear to have me at a disadvantage."

Vastra smiled, "You appear to be somewhat worse for the wear, as you might say."

"I should say I'm covered in bloomin' bruises."

"You would be correct, my dear. Now, pray, remain still."

Vastra continued to apply the ointment and Jenny settled back into the bed. She gave the occasional low sigh that Vastra found most distracting and there was a particular twinkle in those dark eyes whenever Vastra looked up at her face. Distracting and most becoming, Vastra allowed as she thought back to it now.

After a little while more, Vastra had completed her ministrations and her eyes returned to that familiar face, only to find Jenny fast asleep once more. Vastra had watched her for some time, afraid in some primal - and absurd - way that leaving her now might cost Vastra the woman herself.

Eventually, her own exhaustion weighing heavy upon her, Vastra had been forced to leave Jenny to her rest. She had slept through a long and restive morning before returning to her lab to work on a second medicinal that had helped Jenny to remain asleep and - Vastra hoped - without pain for the subsequent day and a half.

Jenny would awaken soon enough and when she did, Vastra would be at her side immediately. The young woman required time to recuperate and Vastra was determined that she would get it. Determined too to ensure that her friend did not feel the need to sacrifice her own comfort or safety in favour of Vastra; something that had appeared to be the case in their recent adventure.

They must talk too and be utterly frank with one another. That much Vastra knew and she hoped that she might manage a modicum of eloquence in the discourse. Not be a foolish, lovesick child, certainly, despite feeling such at that very moment.

Then there was the small matter of the logistics of a Human-Silurian pairing. Vastra had considered the possibility more than once this past few weeks and found that such thoughts left her most discombobulated. As they did once more.

She stared down at the amulets again but could find no greater clarity in them than she could in her own thoughts. So Vastra set them aside - the thoughts and the stones - and considered the Felinoid's vortex manipulator instead.

Her people had some knowledge of the devices, having had contact with those who used them in their long past, but Vastra was certainly no expert. The device had been damaged in their altercation with the creature and removed from her by Jenny's swordstroke.

She really had been magnificent, Vastra thought and then forced herself to concentrate once more on the device. Even from Vastra's limited experience with this technology, she knew that the spacial and temporal facilities were utterly destroyed; once opened, the damage had been obvious. However, there were elements within that remained unharmed, possibly even reparable given time and care.

Vastra hoped that was true and that she had sufficient ability to do so. She hoped too that the perception filter built into the device could be restored. Such an ability would be a boon in their investigations and might even save her from having to don that ridiculous disguise every time a human being might otherwise gaze upon her true nature.

"To hell with them," Vastra muttered, quoting another of Jenny's favoured lines.

There was only one human to whom Vastra wished to show her true nature and that thought again returned the unnatural heat to her cheeks.

Then, as so often happened in their home, the doorbell chimed loud and Vastra was forced to set the vortex manipulator, the amulets and her wondering thoughts aside and return to the human world and her veil and gloves.


	2. Chapter 2

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Jenny Flint awoke from a dream that left her somewhat breathless and with a fine sheen of sweat covering her body. It had been a most stimulating dream and Jenny muttered darkly that something had disturbed her sleep at, as it were, the crucial moment.

It took her a few sleep-addled moments to realise that what had disturbed her had been the doorbell and Jenny looked around the room in some confusion. There were clear signs of light through her drawn curtains and when her eyes fell on the clock that adorned the mantel, she gasped to find that it was late in the morning.

Gasped again when she realised that she did not know which morning. Vastra had tended to her so gently; eased her body's discomfort with that evil green slime; eased her mind with the sleeping draft. Jenny had felt her passion flare but it was easily subdued by the pain of her trek through the sewer complex beneath the Egyptian Hall.

Jenny winced as all of her injuries reintroduced themselves at once, reminding her again just how lucky she had been to survive at all. The fall...the lion...the altercation with the Professor's cult...the Felinoid. All of it a blur of fear, rage and pain. Yet she had survived. More than survived: she had won each battle, defeated each foe and returned to Vastra to fight at her side.

The thought made Jenny's face flush red for a very different reason and she stared at the ceiling for a long moment, pride, elation and the ever-present pain all washing through her. It made the interruption of whoever had come to their door even less welcome but Jenny forced her stiff joints to move so that she could scramble out of bed.

She swilled her face with cold water from the jug and basin in the corner of the room and pulled on her clothes, wincing more than once as the garments caught on her tender skin. The expression "black and blue" might have been invented for her alone; Jenny felt that she was one large bruise with a human being fitted inside.

Bending down to pull on her shoes was even more traumatic than donning her clothing but it was completed with the aid of enough grunts and oaths to leave the air the same colour as her skin. Jenny straightened slowly and took a few careful steps before deciding that she could manage the landing. Those few yards proved less of an obstacle than she had expected and Jenny wondered about the exact ingredients in Vastra's preparation.

She wondered too if the ointment might be put into production before setting that thought aside as she reached the top of the stairs. They were more of a challenge but she overcame her stiff knees to find herself looking down at a veiled and gloved Vastra as she stepped back from the front door to admit Jenny's cousin Lucy Flint. Vastra took her coat in her best impersonation of Jenny's usual duties and Jenny smiled at the gesture.

"Thank you, Madame Vastra," Lucy said in a troubled tone, "I really am most pleased that you are here. Is Jen-"

At that moment, Lucy looked up and smiled in some relief. Jenny took the final few steps and greeted her cousin warmly, if from a distance. Lucy looked her stiff form up and down, dark brows contracting.

"Jen? What's wrong?"

"Oh, we had a bit of bother yesterday...or the day before perhaps. A case," Jenny added quickly, seeing Lucy's eyes flick towards Vastra with the beginnings of an accusing glare, "Quite a strange case too; you'd not believe how strange."

Lucy studied her carefully for a long moment, taking in the bruised knuckles and the stiff set of her back before seeming to accept Jenny at her word. She smiled again and glanced up at Vastra, who was also considering Jenny from behind her veil. Jenny offered her cousin a tentative hug and smiled up at Vastra.

"I'll be fine, don't you two worry," Jenny said, "but what about you then? Something wrong?" Lucy's expression darkened even more and Jenny reached out again to press a hand to her cousin's arm. Jenny lead her into the sitting room, saying, "Tea, I reckon, Madame," over her shoulder before Vastra could follow them.

Vastra did as she was told and that gave Jenny a few minutes to settle Lucy into one of the comfortable seats and herself into a straight-backed chair that she dragged noisily from the edge of the room. She positioned it close to Lucy and sat down carefully, her hand returning to Lucy's shoulder.

Her cousin was in a bad way, Jenny thought and a fierce anger burned in her for a moment, wiping away even the worst of her own discomfort. If that Hoogstraten bloke was the cause if it, she would knock him into next week and then have Vastra finish him off.

"It's my friend Addie," Lucy said and completely derailed Jenny's ire.

"Addie?"

"Miss Adelaide Wilcox," Lucy turned reddened eyes towards Jenny, "she's close to death and it's all my fault."

"I doubt that very much," Jenny said, rubbing Lucy's arm to calm her, "you just take a moment to get yourself right and then when the Madame gets back with our tea, you can tell us all about it."

Lucy nodded slowly before she pulled a handkerchief from her bag and dried her eyes.

"I should have called you in before, you see?" Lucy said.

Jenny continued to rub her arm, studying her cousin carefully until she heard the rattle of a laden tray and turned to see Vastra enter the room. Jenny smiled at her friend as she placed the tray on the small table between the chairs and took her own seat opposite Lucy.

"I'll be Mother," Jenny said and completed the familiar task as Lucy finished composing herself.

Tea distributed and the two women listening most attentively, Lucy began her tale.

"Jen, Madame Vastra, I have a friend called Miss Adelaide Wilcox - Addie for short - and she's had a most cruel life; her father was the late Major Wilcox, who took his own life a few years back. A sweeter person you couldn't wish to meet and she bears her loss, her debts and now her illness with great fortitude."

"Illness?"

"I'm afraid so, Madame. Addie was taken ill some months back with a disease that has quite baffled the doctors. She's not mortally sick, mind, but they say she'll take some time to mend. At least, that's what they said before," Lucy trailed off for a moment.

Jenny encouraged her with, "Before what, Luce?"

Lucy took a deep breath and said, "Well, thing is, Addie was taken terribly sick a few days back. Poisoned, Dr Holmes said, though we could find no reason for such an act or a culprit either. The Police blamed Addie's landlady, Mrs Dayton, but she had an alibi and everything. In the end, they said it must have been a mix up at the pharmacist's and gave them a warning."

"And now?" Vastra said,

"It's happened again, Madame, and Addie's in a very bad way indeed."


	3. Chapter 3

See Part One for story details.

* * *

"Pray, Lucy, explain the situation from the beginning, if you please," Vastra said as they settled back into the carriage that would carry them to the boarding house of Miss Wilcox.

The carriage bobbed and bounced and the three women took another moment to find comfortable spots before Lucy spoke again. Jenny fidgeted to find a position that reduced the pain in her back and Vastra again glared at her through the lace of her veil. She had offered to visit with Miss Wilcox alone and her offer had been met with a most firm refusal. So firm that even Miss Lucy Flint had blushed to hear such language.

Vastra feared that the uncomfortable ride and the possibility of uncomfortable accommodations at their destination might leave her friend's injuries ever more painful but Jenny had waved away any suggestion she might venture to make before the words could form a full sentence.

Eventually even a mighty Silurian warrior had to admit defeat and Vastra had done so by helping Jenny into her newly-scrubbed overcoat and a pair of brand new gloves. Vastra had scrubbed their filthy attire herself and had put every ounce of her fear and anger into the action. It was a wonder there was any material left by the time she had finished but somehow there were two clean, if not pristine coats awaiting them on the hooks by the door.

"Well," Lucy began, interrupting Vastra's thoughts, "Addie moved into the boarding house of Mrs Dayton six months ago - perhaps a little longer - after her mother passed away. Her father, as I have said, took his own life a few years back, having left the army and gone into business. Unsuccessfully, I fear, for Addie and her mother were left with cruel debts.

"Addie had only her mother and her gentleman friend, a Mr Gatliffe. Frank Gatliffe," Lucy elaborated, "who is the son of Mr Archibald Gatliffe, the politician. They've had to keep it rather quiet because the elder Gatliffe doesn't approve, I'm afraid.

"Anyway, Addie moved in and seemed to be doing well; she likes Mrs Dayton and the feeling is mutual. The debtors have largely been mollified, if not entirely dealt with, and Addie was happy again. Then she fell ill, you see. Nothing life threatening - or so Dr Holmes and his colleagues said - but it left her terribly weak and confined to her room.

"Rest, care and some particular medicine were prescribed and Addie appeared to be improving. Slowly, mind, but certainly improving. And then she took very poorly indeed, over night. Dr Holmes recognised the symptoms immediately and had the little bit of medicine that was left in the glass tested. It had been poisoned."

"The type of poison used?" Vastra put in.

"Oh," Lucy looked crestfallen, "I really couldn't say, Madame Vastra, I am sorry."

"No mind," Jenny smiled at her, "we'll sort that out. You just tell us the rest. Miss Addie was very badly off, yes?"

"It really was awful; I thought we might lose her but she's a remarkable woman, quite the strongest I've ever known. Well," Lucy grinned at her cousin, "perhaps the second strongest. Anyway, the Police were called in and, as I said, thought that poor Mrs Dayton might be the culprit. I couldn't believe it and neither could Addie; Mrs Dayton has been wonderful to her and is said to be the best landlady in London.

"Mrs Dayton was quite affronted and made it clear to the officers, I must say. When calmer heads had prevailed, it was pointed out that Mrs Dayton had been absent for most of that day - visiting with relatives, as she does regularly - and that the good Doctor himself had been solely in charge of Addie's treatment. Doctor Holmes and the officers agreed that no-one else could have committed the crime and the assumption that there had been an error at the source of the concoction was settled upon."

"To be clear," Vastra interrupted, "who exactly ensures that Miss Wilcox takes her medicines on more regular days?"

"Ah," Lucy nodded, "I see. Well, this is the way it works: Doctor Holmes visits Addie every morning. He brings that day's drafts with him. The first is administered immediately and other tests carried out as necessary. The second draft is left, along with a tablet to be taken with food.

"Mrs Dayton ensures that Addie takes the tablet with her afternoon meal and also that the glass with the final draft is left within reach of the bed so that Addie herself can take it before she retires for the evening, some little supper being left as well as poor Addie can't eat much at the moment."

"And this Mrs Dayton provides all Miss Addie's food and helps her with her necessaries and that?" Jenny said.

"Yes, exactly. But it isn't her, I'm sure of it. I visit almost every day, in the afternoon usually so that I help with what I can. I had visited that day before she was taken ill the first time, since Mrs Dayton was away; I'd been there with the Doctor in the morning, which I'm not usually. You see," Lucy shook her head sadly, "Addie is such an independent type and so determined to not rely on anyone for anything that she cannot repay, that she hates to be treated as an invalid."

"And this young man you mentioned," Vastra said, "Mr Gatliffe?"

"Frank Gatliffe, yes. He's charming too, they really are a lovely couple, though they don't see nearly as much of each other as they'd like; his father and everything getting in the way."

The carriage drew up outside a well-kempt terrace house of a decent size in one of the better areas of Shoreditch. The women alighted and Lucy rang the bell. A small but energetic woman of middle years answered and greeted Lucy with a sad shake of her head.

"Miss Flint, I'm so glad to have you back for Miss Wilcox was most distressed at your absence."

"Mrs Dayton," Lucy said, already entering the house, "please let me introduce my cousin, Miss Jennifer Flint, and her colleague, Madame Vastra."

Mrs Dayton bobbed a curtsy of sorts to the imposing figure who loomed in her doorway. Jenny distracted her with a gentle handshake and a few words while the women made their way to the narrow staircase that lead to the lodging rooms above.

As they reached the stairs, a young woman with a perfectly round face stepped down and greeted Mrs Dayton with a smile.

"Miss Wilcox, Mrs Dayton?" she said in a quiet tone.

"I'm afraid so, Miss Callaghan, I'm afraid so," the landlady said.

Miss Callaghan shook her head sadly, "Do give her my best."

The young woman then excused herself with a nod to the others and left the house.

"That's Miss Callaghan," Mrs Dayton said unnecessarily.

"You have many girls here, Mrs Dayton?" Jenny asked.

"Five and lovely girls, all of them. There's Miss Adelaide, Miss Callaghan, Miss Leroux and Miss Kelly on this floor," Mrs Dayton indicated the top of the stairs with an outstretched hand, "and then there's Miss Arthurs up in the attic."

"They are all employed?" Vastra asked.

"Miss Addie excepted, of course, but the other three do indeed work. Miss Leroux and Miss Kelly are both employed as seamstresses - genuinely, I might add, and at quite fancy establishments - and Miss Arthurs works at Fortnum and Masons."

"On the confectionery counter, if I'm not mistaken," Vastra said, startling Mrs Dayton and Lucy alike.

Jenny stifled her grin and said, "And you can vouch for all of the others, Mrs Dayton?"

"I believe I can, Miss Flint, for I'd be most shocked to discover that any of them had anything to do with this terrible business."

They mounted the stairs, Vastra following behind as she considered the place carefully while keeping an eye on Jenny's stiff progress. It was very much more pleasant than the boarding house that Jenny had occupied when first they had met; well tended inside and out, clean and full of fresh air. It felt like a welcoming place. Mrs Dayton too seemed like a good, if agitated woman, certainly most concerned with her lodger's situation.

"I sent word for Mr Gatliffe," she explained to Lucy as they ascended the stairs, "and he came immediately. He's with her now. Normally I wouldn't leave them unchaperoned in a young lady's room," Mrs Dayton explained to Jenny who walked between her cousin and the landlady, "but in these circumstances," she let the thought trail off.

They reached the landing, a small, airy space with a stand holding a pretty little vase of flowers tucked into a corner under a little window at the front. The landing stretched to the far end of the house and had four doors leading from it.

Lucy stopped at the first door on the left, knocked once and then entered without hearing word from within. Jenny followed her but Mrs Dayton hesitated as the second door on that side opened and another woman stepped out.

The woman looked up in surprise, nodded a greeting to the landlady and then squinted at Vastra before she returned her myopic attention to Mrs Dayton.

"Mrs Dayton," she said with more than a hint of the Gaelic to her accent, "how is dear Miss Wilcox doing today?"

"Very ill, I'm afraid Miss Leroux," Mrs Dayton said, stepping aside to allow the woman to pass her on the narrow landing, "Very ill indeed."

"Ah, I am so sorry to hear that," the woman said as she and Vastra negotiated the small space at the top of the stairs and she headed down with a polite, "Excuse me, Madame."


	4. Chapter 4

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Vastra entered to find Lucy already at the side of the bed, Jenny waiting by the door and a young gentleman between them. He was tall and slender, with short, dark hair messily combed, his suit expensive but hastily donned.

He inclined his head politely to Mrs Dayton and then studied Vastra for a moment before offering his hand.

"Madame Vastra, I presume?"

"Indeed. Mr Gatliffe?"

"Quite right. I'm jolly glad that Miss Flint has called you in," he said, smiling at Lucy, "I'm most afraid for Miss Wilcox's life."

"Pray, do not be," Vastra said before turning to the young woman in the bed, "Miss Wilcox, how are you feeling just now?"

The question was redundant, of course, but Jenny had taught her that such pleasantries smoothed the way in these situations. In truth, Miss Wilcox was obviously in a very poor way. She was naturally a small creature and her sallow skin and sunken cheeks gave her face a wasted appearance. Her blue eyes - probably quite bright when in good health - were dimmed and she blinked a great deal, as if the low light in the room troubled her greatly.

The room, though clean and tidy, had the harsh scent of carbolic acid to it and beneath that there remained the lingering smells of human waste in its many forms. Miss Wilcox shivered, though sweat stood clear on her brow. Her small body spasmed and Lucy sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand until the attack subsided.

When she was a little more settled, Miss Wilcox said, "Madame Vastra, you really are very kind to take the time to see me."

"Not at all, Miss Wilcox. Miss Flint and I are most pleased to be able to offer our services."

"You really should be dealing with something more important. Like those horrid attacks that keep happening."

"Oh, don't you worry, we'll sort that out after lunch," Jenny said and raised a smile from the room in general.

"I'm surprised that the Police haven't had you looking into that terrible business at the Thames," Mr Gatliffe said.

"They say it's that Egypt place over by Bond Street," Mrs Dayton said in a severe tone, adding, "It will be white slave traders; stealing girls away and disposing of them when they've done."

"Well," Jenny glanced at Vastra, "perhaps we'll deal with them before supper. So," she looked back to Miss Wilcox, "let's start with you."

"Indeed," Vastra said, pleased that her friend had steered the conversation back to the matter at hand, "let us begin with the basics. Miss Flint," she indicated Lucy, "informs us that you have been taken ill before?"

There followed a brief restatement of all that Lucy had told them. Vastra was disappointed that nothing more could be gleaned, even from the mouth of the victim herself. She was pleased though that Miss Lucy Flint had as sharp an eye and mind as her cousin. That meant that everything Lucy had said could be relied upon.

"And the good doctor, he could offer no further explanation as to the source of the poison?"

"None at all," Gatliffe said, "They were all utterly useless!"

"Oh, Frank," Miss Wilcox coughed again, her entire body shaking before she continued, "they did their best. Honestly, Madame Vastra, I thought it was some awful accident."

"It would appear not, Miss Wilcox," Vastra said. She turned to Gatliffe and said, "You are confident in the skill of this Doctor Holmes?"

"He's the best physician in the area, Madame."

Vastra inclined her head but gave no response to that assertion. She looked around the room, glancing at Jenny in concern before considering the place carefully.

On the far side of the bed, close against the wall but still within reach of Miss Wilcox was a small table. The table held a tray which contained a stoppered carafe of what appeared to be water and an empty, upturned glass, along with a second glass that was right-way up and held a half measure of some dark liquid. The second glass was covered with a small piece of material to protect its contents.

Above the table hung a tapestry of some heavy material that showed a pretty landscape in what had once been bright colours. The rest of the furnishing included a comfortable little chair in the corner of the room, a small set of drawers on the other side of the bed and an armoire with a mirror at its front. There was not a great deal of space between even these small items and it was quite full with five guests. Vastra herself was barely in the room at all, standing as she was in the doorway and looking across to the window on the opposite side.

"To be clear, Miss Wilcox, and forgive me for asking this -" Vastra began.

"Oh, Madame, ask me anything, I have no secrets from the people in this room."

"Very well then. To be clear, you have no enemies? There is not, perhaps, a debtor in whom some animosity remains?"

"That's just what I said," Gatliffe said.

"Really, Frank, Madame," Miss Wilcox shook her head, though the effort obviously wore on her, "all of Papa's business has been concluded. There really is no-one who hasn't been willing to work with my solicitor to settle the matter; everyone's been most kind."

"I reckon that's got more to do with your nature than there's," Jenny said.

"Oh, it has, I'm sure," Lucy agreed.

"And there is no-one else who might bear a grudge? Even about a most trifling matter," Vastra added.

"No one, I assure you."

Vastra considered the girl. She doubted that it was within her to think ill of anyone, even those who might do her an injustice without thought.

"And this poison, Mrs Dayton, did the physician identify it?"

"I can help with that," Mr Gatliffe said when Mrs Dayton appeared flustered. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small pocketbook. Taking something from it, he read, "I wrote it all down and they thought it some sort of 'cholinergic reaction to an alkaloid of a toxic nature'."

"I'll take that as a no," Vastra dismissed the findings. She turned to Mrs Dayton once more, "You were not here on the evening of the first attempt on Miss Wilcox's life?"

"I was not; I was visiting with a family member for most of the day and returned late."

"So there's no way to know if anyone could have come into the house while you were out?" Jenny said.

"Oh, no-one got in here, I'm sure of that."

"How so, Mrs Dayton?" Vastra said.

"Only the people living here have keys and they all swore that they admitted no-one on that evening. Or on any other evening, I should hope," Mrs Dayton added before saying, "Besides, I was here yesterday all day and yet still poor Miss Wilcox was taken bad."

"But you do not administer Miss Wilcox's final draft?"

"Oh, Madame," Miss Wilcox said, "I really couldn't ask Mrs Dayton do be in and out of here all evening. Especially not on her visiting day!"

"And she refuses to allow me to stay late with her on those evenings," Lucy tutted.

"You all have your own lives, I couldn't ask you to put a halt on them for me. And I'm quite sure that none of the other girls here would have lied about letting someone in, Madame, quite sure indeed."

Vastra wondered at the trusting nature of these humans, particularly in the light of their species' unfortunate tendency towards violence. She said, "And you, Mr Gatliffe? You did not visit that evening?"

"I certainly did not, particularly with Mrs Dayton away from home and Miss Wilcox confined to bed!"

Mrs Dayton gave a harrumph of agreement and the matter was settled. Vastra looked around the room again, considering the problem from all angles until she became aware that the rest of the room's occupants were watching her expectantly.

Except perhaps Jenny, who was looking at her with a faint smirk on her lips. Vastra knew that expression all to well; it said, "Go on, then, impress me," most eloquently.

"I believe I have a plan of action, Miss Wilcox, if you would be willing to follow my instructions?"


	5. Chapter 5

See Part One for story details.

* * *

Vastra kept her hand on her companion's arm, her other arm wrapped around the stiff figure as they eased their way down the narrow staircase of Mrs Dayton's lodging house. Mr Gatliffe lead the way and Lucy trailed behind them with a most concerned expression troubling her features. They made their slow procession to the front door and stepped out into the cold air.

Mr Gatliffe handed the three women into the waiting carriage and closed the door, standing back to wave them off. As the carriage rumbled away, he turned and walked on.

From the window above, Mrs Dayton watched them leave before returning to Miss Wilcox's room. She shut and locked the door before smiling at the room's occupant.

"They got away?" Jenny said to her.

She had changed her clothing, donning one of Miss Wilcox's nightgowns ready to take to the young woman's bed.

"No-one about to see them go. Your Madame Vastra is quite a lady, isn't she?"

"Something like that," Jenny said, "Well then, Mrs Dayton, as long as you're ready to open the back door in an hour's time, you'd best be about your duties as normal. We don't want anyone smelling a rat, eh?"

Mrs Dayton agreed - if somewhat reluctantly - and left Jenny alone as she went about her housekeeping. Jenny locked the door behind her and listened to the noises of the house, surprised that the sounds of Mrs Dayton's movements came so clear through the walls.

Must be very thin, she thought and stared at the wall that joined with the next room. They could have been subdivided to give Mrs Dayton more rooms to rent out. Any landlady would want to make the most of the space she had, particularly at the rates that Mrs Dayton charged.

Jenny wondered if this business would cause her to loose tenants but set the thought aside in favour of stretching her back and trying to ignore the increasing tenderness there. She looked around the room but managed to stop herself from looking through Miss Wilcox's few things.

Instead, she settled into the comfortable chair and waited with the newspaper that Mrs Dayton had provided for her lodger. She shifted in the seat, hoping to find a more comfortable spot but gave up with a grunt of annoyance.

"You really did take a beating," she muttered to herself, adding, "And you gave a few too," with a cocky grin.

Jenny considered the front page of the newspaper and her grin turned to a grimace. The story given prominence was an entirely inaccurate piece about the horror they had investigated at the Thames. Jenny didn't know whether to laugh or cry as she read on but she eventually settled for a few dark mutterings.

The journalist had taken all of the wildest theories - theories that even Mrs Dayton might consider farfetched - and worked them into a piece that managed to be both xenophobic and misogynistic in equal measure. Jenny checked the masthead, wondering that such an august journal would print such piffle and then opened the newspaper to the inside pages.

There she found a short item relating the ongoing investigation into the vicious attacks that had plagued London even before the horror at the Thames. There had been no further attacks since that incident and there was some suggestion that the two might be related. Jenny considered that possibility for some time, though she could come to no real conclusion but that she and Vastra really must begin their investigation should the attacks resume.

An hour later, Jenny heard the sound of the back door opening. She folded the newspaper neatly, setting it aside as she waited a few extra moments. Then she moved back to the door, unlocking it with the key that had been left on the table but remaining close by, her fingers still gripping the handle.

After a few minutes more - though time enough for her body to begin to protest her uncomfortable position - the handle shifted in her palm and Jenny tensed, moving back with the opening door and readying herself to strike if necessary. The door was barely open when a figure entered, closed and locked the door behind them.

"My dear," Vastra said, "are you quite all right?"

"Thought I'd best be prepared for the worst, Madame."

"The worst?"

"Like you not bringing me anything more than water and biscuits for my lunch," Jenny grinned.

"On that, I can oblige," Vastra held up a bag before depositing it on the floor, "and on the matter of protection also."

"You think it might get violent?"

"I think not."

"But you reckon it'll happen again tonight? After a week between the first two attacks, I don't see why."

"I admit, there is a degree of intuition involved," Vastra said as she removed her veil and gloves, "but, yes, I believe that our culprit will strike again tonight. After two failed attempts and with so much interest now focused on the case, I believe this would appear to be their last chance to, as you would say, finish the job."

"Who'd want to bump off a gal like Miss Wilcox?" Jenny shook her head, "She's the sweetest little thing."

"Who indeed. It must be someone within these walls, do you not agree?"

"Of course. Unless the doctor did it?"

"I considered the possibility but I believe not. Though to be quite certain, I asked Colonel Adams to join Lucy and Mr Gatliffe when the good Doctor comes to visit her later this afternoon. Mr Gatliffe will escort the gentleman to our home for the appointment."

"That only narrows it down, though. Who'd want to do this...and why?"

"That I do not know but I trust we will find out this very evening."

"Let's just make sure we find out before I get poisoned, eh?"

"I will endeavour to do so, my dear," Vastra said and smiled.

They settled on the edge of the bed, sitting side by side but not touching. Jenny felt very aware of the inappropriate nature of her attire; Vastra of the close proximity of a source of such warmth. They remained silent for some time before both spoke at once.

"Madame -"

"My dear -"

Jenny laughed, "After you , Madame."

"I wished to raise the subject of our," Vastra hesitated, suddenly shy under her friend's intense gaze, "relationship. It is something that you expressed a desire to discuss, is it not?"

"It is," Jenny lowered her eyes, studying the off-white material of Miss Wilcox's best nightgown, "I thought we should, at least."

"Indeed."

They were silent again until Jenny looked up into Vastra's bright eyes and grinned, "Ain't easy when you have to say the words, is it?"

"The most important words rarely are, my dear."

"No, suppose not," Jenny said, she took a deep breath and continued, "Thing is, I reckon we're a fair bit more than friends now but..."

She trailed off and Vastra was warmed by the glow of her burning cheeks, warmed inside and out. She placed a hand on Jenny's arm and waited while the young woman considered her next words, aware that the "but" which hung in the air between them might take her life in an entirely different direction...or it might crush her very soul.

"But...?"

"But," Jenny shrugged, "I don't even know if," the blush returned in full force, "we'd be compatible, as you might say."

"Compatible?" Vastra considered the word for a moment before her face lit up, "Oh, I think we might be. Indeed, I have given the matter some consideration of late."

Jenny's face took on a wicked sort of smile, Vastra thought as she felt her scales flare unexpectedly.

"Oh aye?" Jenny said, "And what were the Great Detective's conclusions on that matter?"

"Well, my dear," Vastra attempted to match her friend's expression, "I feel certain that it will be entertaining to find out."

Jenny blinked up into Vastra's grinning face, the eyes sparkling in a most inviting manner. She laughed, allowing her balance to tip so that she was propped up against Vastra's side, her head fitting neatly under Vastra's chin.

Vastra wrapped her arm around Jenny and pulled the smaller form in to her side. Jenny gave a most becoming little sigh and sank into the embrace, where she remained until her stomach made itself known with a most unbecoming growl.

Jenny tucked her face into Vastra's shoulder and muttered, "Sorry, Madame," in an embarrassed tone.

"Do not be sorry, my dear," Vastra said as she eased away reluctantly and smiled down at Jenny, "I believe a picnic is in order. Can one have a picnic indoors?" she added with a raised brow.

"We can if I've got anything to do with it."

Jenny stood up too quickly and had to shuffle on her unsteady feet. Vastra was by her side immediately, reaching out to support Jenny until she gave a little nod to indicate that she had regained her balance. Vastra studied her carefully and made to speak but Jenny lifted a finger to her lips.

"I'm fine, really Vastra," she said, "still a bit stiff but definitely improving."

"You must tell me if you require anything."

The grin returned and Jenny said, "Oh, there's plenty I require but now is not the place or the time."

With that, Jenny made for the bag where it had been left by the door. She unfastened the clasp, peering inside for a moment before rummaging around in there until she pulled out a poorly wrapped and rather soggy bundle.

"Maybe I should handle the picnics from now on?"


	6. Chapter 6

See Part One for story details.

* * *

They had taken their repast sitting on the floor, the bedstead serving duty as a backrest, Jenny cocooned in every pillow and cushion in the room and a large handkerchief posing as a blanket. Despite it's somewhat unfortunate state, the food had been devoured and Vastra forgiven for her lack of skill in packaging.

They were again shoulder to shoulder, their bodies resting together as they sat in companionable silence, hands linked between them. Jenny's fingers moved over Vastra's scaled hand and she wondered at the softness that she found there.

"Madame," Jenny said as she turned her head to stare up at Vastra, "not to harp on about it but -"

She could say no more as Vastra leaned forward and pressed her lips to Jenny's. Vastra marvelled at the warmth of human lips, just as Jenny marvelled at the pleasant coolness that touched her own. The kiss lingered for a moment longer before they parted and Vastra smiled into Jenny's darkened eyes.

"We will find our own way to be compatible," she emphasised the word, "fear not, my dear."

Jenny didn't have the time to respond, nor - much to her chagrin - to initiate a second kiss as a noise from the world beyond the door disturbed their intimate moment and both women remembered themselves and their situation in an unwelcome rush.

"We'd best get ready," Jenny said.

She quickly deposited the remains of their picnic into the bag before she allowed Vastra to help her to her feet. Jenny held on to Vastra, pulling her into a hug before they parted. Vastra took up her veil and gloves once more, while Jenny gathered the pillows up, donned Miss Wilcox's little nightcap and hastily drew the curtains before slipping into bed.

There was movement on the landing now and voices too. Mrs Dayton's and one which they had not heard before. Vastra settled herself into the corner of the bedroom, tucked into the other side of the armoire from the door so that she could not be seen from the entrance but had a clear view of the whole room.

Jenny hissed at her, waving her hand at the door in a frantic gesture. Vastra uncurled her body, reached around the armoire to pull the key from the lock and then settled back into her spot.

A few moments later, after more words said directly outside the door along the lines of an inquiry after Miss Wilcox's continued ill health, the lock was thrown and the door opened a fraction. Jenny wriggled down into the bed, pulling the covers about her face as best she could.

Mrs Dayton was aware of any potential danger, however, and held the door to until that of the opposite room was heard opening and closing again. Only then did the landlady enter Miss Wilcox's room. She looked around inquisitively, her eyes passing over Vastra's hiding place once before they returned to the same spot and she gave a startled little gasp.

Jenny pressed a finger to her own lips and urged Mrs Dayton to mind what she said. To her relief, Mrs Dayton played her part perfectly, though there was a conspiratorial wink involved as well.

"Well now, Miss Wilcox," Mrs Dayton said only a little too loud, "here we are then, I'll just put you right. Oh now, there's news about that awful business down at the Thames," she said with a knowing look, "Seems the Police have arrested some men from a tailor's shop over in Pimlico. Foreigners, I have no doubt. There we are then, all set fair."

Glasses and plates had been moved around the room, some fussing and twitching of sheets completed while Mrs Dayton told her gossip and then the landlady left, turning the lock and removing her key as she went.

Jenny rolled her eyes in Vastra's direction, feeling certain that her friend - her lover, she thought with a giddy little skip of her heart - would recognise the gesture. And then it was a case of waiting out the culprit, should they choose to show themselves this evening.

Which Jenny very much hoped they did as soon as possible, for she wanted to return home with Vastra and to find out just how compatible they might be. She set the thought aside with a determination that amazed her and stared at the door in anticipation of a very different act.

Still the thought kept returning to her mind and it only served to increase the sense of utter boredom of lying - alone - in someone else's bed whilst waiting for an unknown assailant to perhaps strike. The stiffness in her back, the aching in the rest of her body and the remarkably uncomfortable mattress of Miss Wilcox's bed didn't help either and Jenny wriggled about a great deal in an ongoing attempt to find the right spot.

She glanced over to find Vastra watching her with a bemused expression on her face, exposed now as she had pushed the veil back over her head. Jenny gave an exaggerated shrug and hoped that Vastra wouldn't think that she was always such a fidget in bed; she didn't want to put her off before they'd even started.

It was at least another half hour before more noise reached them from the staircase. Footsteps outside the door lead to the sound of the door next to Miss Wilcox's opening and closing, the click of the lock loud even in their room. Jenny glanced at the joining wall, then over at Vastra. She was surprised to see the sharp attention in Vastra's eyes as she stared at the wall just above the table.

Jenny waited for Vastra's gaze to turn upon her before giving another shrug, this time in question. Vastra ignored the gesture and began to pantomime her desire for Jenny to cover more of herself from view.

Jenny made to speak but thought better of it and instead adjusted her position in the bed so that she could tug the blanket higher on her face, while keeping the bonnet low on her brow. It left only her eyes exposed, eyes that peered at Vastra.

She, however, had returned her gaze to the wall, her face set hard in consideration. Jenny turned to the door, feeling sure that at least one of them should be watching for the entrance of the culprit. Again nothing happened and again Jenny cursed whoever it might be.

A movement from Vastra's corner of the room pulled Jenny's attention away from the door and she wondered what had made her companion tense so. As her gaze returned to the door yet again, something caught at the corner of her eye, something off on the other side of the bed.

Jenny turned to find a disembodied hand floating above the little table. She stifled her gasp in the bedsheets, dark eyes wide as Jenny considered the possibility that their recent adventures with severed hands, mummified remains and the like might have finally thrown her mind into madness.

Then her sight - impaired as it was by the darkened room and the frill of the bonnet - settled on what was actually happening. Above the table hung the tapestry and the hand was not floating in air but rather appearing out of the wall itself, poking out from behind the heavy material.

Jenny watched as the hand reached down, the fingers exploring carefully until they found the edge of the glass that held Miss Wilcox's final physic. The fingers took hold of the rim - cover and all - and the glass rose up into the air, floating for a moment before it was pulled back into the wall behind the arras and disappeared.

Jenny glanced over at Vastra, finding her already crouched by the armoire, the room key in her hand. Her white teeth flashed bright as she smiled at Jenny, then Vastra pulled her veil back over her face before making her cramped way to the door in absolute silence.

Jenny's attention returned to the tapestry and as soon as the material twitched, she tensed. The tapestry was pushed away from the wall, the glass reappearing to hover for a moment before the hand eased it back down towards the table.

Jenny sprang up the instant that Vastra moved to open the door. She was on her feet in the small space between bed and table and lunging forward in a moment, grabbing at the hand just as it withdrew from the glass. There was a startled yelp from the other side of the wall, almost drowned out by the opening of the door and Vastra's rushed exit.

Jenny held on with all her might, ignoring the pain in her bruised hands and yanking the arm further through the wall with no thought of mercy. The arm bucked and shook but her grasp remained firm. Jenny heard the door of the next room open with a creak of protesting wood and then Vastra said, "Miss Leroux, pray remain still," in a hard tone.

Jenny waited until the voice returned, saying, "You can let go now, my dear," and only then did she loosen her grip. The hand withdrew with a muttered, "Merde," and Jenny reached out for the corner of the tapestry before it could drop back into place.

Behind it, cut carefully into the thin dividing panel, was a hole comfortably big enough to admit a glass. Had the tapestry been any lighter, it would have been easily discernible but with such thin walls and such heavy cloth, it had been entirely hidden from discovery.

There was a noise out on the landing and Mrs Dayton's voice came from the doorway, "Back into your room, if you please Miss Callaghan," and then, "Miss Flint, what in heaven's name?"

There came the sound of a commotion from the next room, moving out to the landing and then Vastra appeared with Miss Leroux in an armlock of some strength. Miss Leroux struggled still and Vastra held her so that she walked on tiptoes. A firm shake stilled her struggling and Vastra relaxed her grip a very little.

"Mrs Dayton, be so good as to send word to the local constabulary and to Miss Lucy Flint at Paternoster Row," she said.


	7. Chapter 7

See Part One for story details.

* * *

It took some time before the messages found their recipients and Jenny spent it sitting guard over a surly and blaspheming - Jenny assumed from her limited grasp of French - Miss Leroux locked in Mrs Dayton's little parlour. Vastra stood at the door, her veil and gloves making her figure even more imposing than her height. Miss Leroux squinted up at her as she hissed out her invective.

Jenny was pleased to be back in her own clothes but unhappy at yet another late night after their exertions at the Egyptian Hall. She ached cruelly and the time spent immobile in Miss Wilcox's bed had not helped. Her back protested even now but she focused on thoughts of what might be to come and ignored the rest of her body. From the sly glances that Vastra kept casting in her direction, Jenny thought that perhaps her companion had similar ideas.

Eventually, a Sergeant Poole arrived with a young constable. They were quickly followed by Lucy, Mr Gatliffe and Miss Wilcox herself. Miss Leroux was left in the parlour with the constable while Mrs Dayton lead the others into a slightly larger room.

Miss Wilcox was carefully settled into the most comfortable chair, immediately next to the fire and with a blanket about her. She appeared quite exhausted by the excitement of the day and Jenny feared for her. Miss Wilcox flashed her a tired but appreciative smile and Jenny returned it while trying to hide her concern.

Lucy stood beside her cousin and whispered, "She insisted on coming back with us. Wouldn't have a bar of being left behind; wanted to know who'd been doing this to her."

"I can't believe it of Miss Leroux," Miss Wilcox said, proving that her ill health had not affected her hearing, "I really can't imagine why she would do such a thing. Madame Vastra?"

"I confess," Vastra began and immediately the attention of the room was upon her, "I do not even now understand the full motivation for Miss Leroux's actions. I can speculate, should you wish me to do so?"

"Please do," Mr Gatliffe said.

"Sergeant?" Vastra looked to the short, chubby man with the reddened face and he nodded his assent. She continued, "Very well. I believe perhaps one of the more basic of human emotions may be to blame, to wit: jealousy. Miss Wilcox, though suffering greatly at the moment had every appearance of happiness awaiting her; all of her family's business settled, Mr Gatliffe's continued love and, of course, her naturally happy countenance."

"You're very kind," Miss Wilcox said.

"Not at all but whatever the true motive, I feel sure that Miss Leroux will be inclined to explain herself to your officers, Sergeant, when you have her at the Station House."

"Get someone in who speaks French, mind," Jenny added to the man.

"Indeed, for she is quite voluble in her native tongue."

There was a moment of silence while the room took it all in, then the two men present spoke at once.

"Beggin' your pardon, Sir," the Sergeant said and indicated that Mr Gatliffe should speak.

"I just wondered exactly what happened. I mean, this business about a hole in the wall, can it be true?"

"Oh, quite true, Sir, I saw it with my own eyes," Mrs Dayton said, her dander up, "Cut clean through my wall! Used one of my own pictures to cover it up! I've never seen such a thing in all my days. Makes me wish I'd had room inspections; how could such a thing be missed?"

Jenny declined to point out the appallingly thin walls and instead said, "It was quite a clever plan really, what with the table on that joining wall and the medicines left all day like that."

"So this woman," Mr Gatliffe struggled to hold back a very different descriptor, "cuts a hole through the wall and just reaches in at night and drops in her poison?"

"In fact, Miss Leroux had grown so bold as to lift the glass out of the room, administer the toxin and then return the glass to its place," Vastra said.

"Unbelievable," the Sergeant muttered, scrawling into the little notebook in his hand with a chewed down pencil, "That a woman would do such a thing...that she'd even come up with such a plan...!"

"Do not underestimate the female of the species," Vastra warned him.

Jenny said, "Oh aye, we're dangerous when riled."

"I really must remember that," Mr Gatliffe said as he smiled down at Miss Wilcox.

"I doubt you have to worry about that," Lucy said and beamed at them both.

"And the poison itself, Madame Vastra?" the Sergeant put in.

Vastra considered for a moment, "I believe, were you to search Miss Leroux's room, you might find some form of ophthalmic treatment for her sight condition, Sergeant. Do so and have it tested and I trust you will find an alkaline solution of the type physostigmine - prescription, I might add - that will match the toxin used in this case."

"She was poisoning Adelaide with her eye bath?" Lucy said and stared at Jenny for a moment before her attention returned to Vastra, "Really, Madame?"

"It seems the most likely explanation, wouldn't you say? Such solutions come with clear warnings on the bottle and yet are passed freely to anyone with the appropriate condition."

"And despite her eyes, Miss Leroux can still read," Jenny said, "Quite clever, when you think of it."

Vastra stared at her through the lace of her veil and said, "I must keep a sharp eye on you, my dear, should you ever require prescribed drugs."

There was little more explanation required and so a short period of bustling activity followed while the Sergeant and his constable departed with Miss Leroux still muttering darkly in the language of her birth. Mrs Dayton stood by and glared as they left, no doubt cursing her former tenant, then went off to calm the worries of her remaining girls.

Jenny returned to the others to find Lucy and Mr Gatliffe attempting to help Miss Wilcox to her feet. The poor woman was very weak and could barely stand, even with their assistance. Jenny indicated that she should return to the chair and called for Vastra to rejoin them.

She came in from the hallway, picked Miss Wilcox up without question and carried her from the room. Mr Gatliffe gawped in a most unflattering manner before Lucy's laughter shook him free of his shock and he blushed crimson.

"Well I never!"

"Oh, she does," Jenny said, a vague memory of being carried through the cold night coming to her.

"I should go up with Addie," Lucy said, interrupting Jenny's thoughts as she carefully hugged her cousin, "Thank you, Jen, I really can't imagine what might have happened if you two hadn't solved this awful business."

"I'm rather afraid that I can imagine it all too well," Mr Gatliffe said as Lucy pulled back and he offered his hand to Jenny, "You will allow me to pay your fees."

Jenny was just about to agree when Lucy laughed again, "Don't be silly, Frank, Jen would never charge you for this. Would you, Jen?" she added in a more doubtful tone.

Stifling the urge to sigh, Jenny shook her head and said, "No, don't be daft," with as good a smile as she could muster.

Lucy kissed Jenny's cheeks and the smile became genuine. They said their goodbyes and Lucy went upstairs to help Mrs Dayton settle Miss Wilcox in for the night. Her smile remained as she studied Mr Gatliffe, staring at the door as if he didn't know whether he should remain here, leave the house or - as he obviously wanted to do - go up to wish his love goodnight.

"Not that it's any of my business, Sir," Jenny said quietly, "but you should marry her. Oh, I know," she continued before he could explain his situation, "family's are want to cause trouble where love is concerned but the thing is, you need to decide what's more important to you: your family and their money or Miss Wilcox and your love. In my experience, that last thing wins every time."

Mr Gatliffe cast her a sad smile but didn't have chance to respond before Vastra returned to the room and said, "I couldn't agree more, my dear," in a manner that even Mr Gatliffe seemed to pick up on.

Again he flushed a deep red, his eyes flicking from one to the other of them. After a long moment, he said, "I thank you both for your advice, ladies, and for all of your help today. I really don't know how I could ever repay you but," he hesitated and then said, "but I very much hope that you will both attend my wedding at some point in the future."

"In the not too distant future, I hope," Jenny said.

With that he excused himself, expressing his gratitude once more and accepting their best wishes with embarrassed joy. As they made their way out after him, Vastra noticed that he had left a small, handwritten note for Miss Wilcox on the console table by the door.

Jenny saw it and grinned, "Young love, eh Madame?"

"And are we too, 'love's young dream', my dear?" Vastra said.

"Well, I'm still young...how old are you exactly?"

"Such impertinence," Vastra tutted, before adding "And such a difficult question to answer."


End file.
